Theft of a Welshman's Diary
by chidoria
Summary: Ianto's diary is in Jack's office. Again. Short and sweet Janto fic, set somewhere between S2.05 and S2.12... BBC and RTD own Torchwood and everyone in it, obviously. Enjoy!


Ianto stood, leaning on the desk in the Tourist Office, eyes trained on the phone. Occasionally he glanced back at the clock or up at the door, and as he began to poke at yesterday's newspaper, the low static of the overhead television was finally interrupted.

Ianto held his hand above the phone, letting it ring three times before answering.

"Hullo?"

"Ianto, are you busy up there?"

Ianto tilted his head back, biting his lip as he searched his inventory of lies for a reason he might be busy.

"Well could you come down, pet?" Gwen's voice was grating. "Now?"

Ianto replaced the handset and smoothed his navy blazer, checking his tie as he abandoned the desk, pressing the hidden door release and making his way down the stairs into the Hub. Gwen was waiting, arms folded, as the heavy door rolled back. As Ianto stepped into the Hub, she moved towards him, lowering her voice to address him.

"I just thought you'd like to know, he's doing it again."

Ianto stared. "Who's doing what?"

"Missing something?" Gwen flapped her hands together like some sort of sideways dying butterfly. "Diary," she added, perhaps realising her hand signals lacked finesse. Ianto's face lost its colour and his eyes rolled up from where they stood at the bottom of the stairs to the windows of Jack's office. From this angle, his body was hidden, but The Captain's booted feet were visible, crossed on his desk.

Ianto pursed his lips, ignoring the coy smile playing on Gwen's face.

"Maybe you should lock it away?" were the words she offered Ianto's back as he disappeared hastily up the stairs and through the open door of Jack's office.

The older man didn't look up. He was engrossed in a yellowed tome of old Torchwood files, tapping his fingers over the pages as he leafed through them. Ianto cleared his throat. Stepping into the room, he glanced around the desk and the shelves, before letting his gaze fall on Jack.

"What's up?" The Captain's eyes stayed with the documents, but they twinkled as Ianto shuffled into view. Jack finally looked up, his gaze naturally falling somewhere round Ianto's crotch before travelling up, following the line of the navy suit on his body, lingering on the knot of striped tie, roaming slowly across pale skin and rose lips before finally meeting blue eyes. Ianto swallowed.

"Just wondered if you'd seen my diary?"

Jack lifted his left boot, then his right, revealing a green, leather-bound diary on the desk between his feet.

"You left it here this morning," he began, swinging his legs off the table and sitting back in his chair, the palms of his hands on the back of his head. He swung the chair around to face Ianto. "I hadn't actually got round to reading it yet."

Ianto smirked and bobbed his head as he removed the diary from the desk. "Right." He turned on his heels to leave, feeling Jack's eyes on his back. He faltered in the doorway and finally turned back, one hand in his pocket, the other brandishing the diary. Jack raised an eyebrow.

"Do you need something else?"

Ianto shrugged, feigning nonchalance. His heartrate trebled as Jack stood up and sauntered to his side, leaving Ianto to mask his feelings with a practised expression of disinterest.

"Any empty coffee cups?"

Jack's smile widened. They faced each other for another split second before Jack suddenly moved back to his desk. Ianto's face fell as the Captain hooked a white mug up with his left hand and flung it across the room to him. Ianto toyed with the idea of dropping it.

This 'dabbling' shit was beginning to get him down. Ianto didn't exactly expect to be thrown up against the wall every time they were alone, but the occasional hint outside the bedroom that Jack actually cared about their twisted relationship might be nice. He left the office, face dark.

From her workstation, Gwen watched Ianto descend the stairs, coffee mug in one hand, diary in the other, and she narrowed her eyes. There was a very real chance she might start hating Ianto, she mused to herself as the suited man chucked the mug at the coffee station. It made a disappointing smashing noise. She glanced up at Jack's office, the familiar sight of boots on the desk, the centre of the room hidden by alien foliage, the lined shelves visible to the sides. She rubbed her wedding ring and sighed, eyes glazed as flashbacks of the day she'd walked in on Jack and Ianto danced through her mind.

She barely noticed Ianto storm back up the stairs.

"Jack."

This time he looked up. The Captain thumbed the straps of his braces, slowly standing as Ianto re-entered the room. The younger man stepped close, hands shoved deep into his trouser pockets, eyes flicking from Jack's boots to his face in one heartbeat. He wasn't asking for romance. What he had was enough. But sometimes the desire ran through him so strongly, the passion so raw, the lust so deep. Ianto opened his mouth, searching for something worth saying.

Jack met his lips, cupping Ianto's face with his hands, pulling him into a fierce kiss. Ianto stumbled forward, freeing his arms from his blazer, throwing it over the desk. Jack's hands slid to Ianto's shoulders and he pushed him hard into the cold bricks of the wall, leaving him breathless as they sunk into another kiss.

Suddenly Jack pulled away, keeping Ianto pinned to the wall with one hand, staring deep into his eyes and raising the other hand to point at his chest. Both men breathed heavily as Jack wagged his pointed finger.

"I read your diary."

Ianto smirked as he caught his breath. "Don't… really care."

Jack's face was unreadable as he kissed Ianto again.


End file.
